STAR WARS: The Final Trial
by Metamorph Jack
Summary: In the small mining town of Perigaea on Telluris 3, Jedi Master Jove and his apprentices Azla and Deak are hunted by Imperial Death Troopers. Jove sends his students and their astromech R5-Z9 to the derelict Barathrum Mine with instructions to hide and await his signal. But the mine is far from safe, as something far deadlier than Death Troopers follows through the tunnels.
1. Chapter 1 - Death Comes to Town

"They've found us," Strigis exclaimed in a hushed yell, standing in the doorway of the Whitesun Clinic's basement.

Azla and Deak ceased their sparring. They stared at their master, frozen with fear. Strigis Jove, aged sixty-eight, was a human male with fair skin. He had a bald head, light-blue eyes, bushy grey brows and a matching beard. His face bore a look of dread and his tone of voice was urgent.

"How many?" Deak asked, unfreezing to deactivate his lightsaber. At the touch of a button, a blade of green energy disappeared into the silver and bronze cylindrical hilt clasped in his hands.

"Nine Imperial Death Troopers," Strigis replied.

Deak Starblazer, aged twenty-five, was the eldest apprentice. A human male with a light complexion, wavy dark brown hair, matching thick brows, hazel eyes, and a square jaw. Azla Yandulu, aged nineteen, was the youngest. A green-skinned mirialan female with dark magenta hair, deep blue eyes, and delicate facial features.

"I'll prep the speeder," Azla announced, extinguishing her own blue energy blade. The beam retracted in the silver cylinder she held.

"I'll wake R5," Deak added.

The two dashed out of the basement with their master and scrambled up the stairs.

The Whitesun Clinic was a private practice operated by the three Jedi under false identities. During the Clone Wars, Strigis and Azla were healers who used their knowledge of medicine and the power of the force to treat injured civilians and republic troops. They were posted aboard the medstation _Starbright_ when Order 66 was executed. After the Jedi were collectively branded traitors by then Chancellor Palpatine, the master and apprentice fled in search of sanctuary which they later found in Perigaea, the small mining town on the moon Telluris 3 that they had called home for the past two standard years. There they established the clinic to earn a living by putting their skills to use.

It was at this practice Strigis and Azla met Deak Starblazer and his astromech R5-Z9 one standard month ago. After contracting a strain of malevaxia, he came to the Whitesun Clinic for treatment where the pair healed him. Much to their surprise, the two Jedi sensed that Deak was force-sensitive. This was proceeded by another unexpected discovery when Azla found a lightsaber hooked to her patient's belt while removing his overcoat. Once he was well again, Deak confirmed to the master and his padawan that their suspicion was correct, he was in fact a Jedi Knight. He told them of the events that lead to his presence on Telluris 3. His freighter, the _Albus Equina_ , was carrying a stow-away bounty hunter who sought to collect the reward for his capture. After getting shot with a poison dart during his confrontation with the intruder, Deak and R5 were forced to abandon ship in an escape pod. They landed in Perigaea where they were found by locals and brought to the Whitesun Clinic.

Over the following standard month, the three Jedi lived and worked together at the clinic, healing the sick and the injured while also secretly training in the ways of the force. Deak was part of a family again after being alone for so long, Alza had made a friend with whom she could be herself, and Strigis had gained a new student thus replenishing the Order's dwindling numbers.

But with the arrival of death troopers in their formerly safe haven, all that was now in jeopardy. This was the day the trio had feared. Their very lives hung in the balance. Both their survival and that of the Order hinged on the outcome of the death troopers' search. Strigis had prepared for this moment. In the event that the empire should ever come dangerously close to finding him and his apprentices, Azla and Deak were instructed to take R5-Z9 and go to the derelict Barathrum Mine. There they would hide in the tunnels and await his signal via comlink to re-emerge once it was safe to do so. If they had not received the signal after five standard hours, his data card provided to Azla containing the contacts of the remaining Jedi he knew was to be inserted into R5-Z9. The droid, once commanded, would send an emergency broadcast to those on the card. The two apprentices were to record a warning to alert the recipients that their refuge on Perigaea was compromised.

In accordance with the plan, Deak and Azla went to the garage and packed R5 into their landspeeder. The tripedal droid was one meter tall with white cylindrical casing. The head had three beady photoreceptors and a thin antenna protruding from the top. It's mid-section was covered in green panels housing tools and mechanical limbs. It's weight was supported by two hydraulic shafts with motorized treads on each side and a third retractable tread that extended from the front. Meanwhile, Strigis kept a lookout for the troopers, watching from the building's front windows.

"I see them! They're approaching from town square!" He warned, speaking into his palm-sized comlink.

Azla heard him through her own identical device. "Opening garage door now," she responded. "Ten seconds until departure."

She nodded at Deak. He returned the gesture and slammed his fist against a button on the wall. Azla worked the landspeeder's controls, revving the engine impatiently as the garage door slowly began to lift open. Deak quickly climbed into the back passenger seat beside R5. Azla's comlink chimed and Strigis called out again.

"They're getting closer! I'll hold them off! Get to safety! Go!"

The door lifted higher, seconds away from opening completely.

"We will master," she replied. "Departure in three...two...one!"


	2. Chapter 2 - The Chase

Through the open door, the glow of Telluris and it's first moon, coupled with that of the surrounding stars, illuminated the night sky. With a roar of the engine, the RGC-17A landspeeder hovered quickly out of the garage. It's wide, cuboid body was short in height with rounded edges, and a semi-circular front and rear. The vehicle swung left as Azla took a sharp turn. It's twin side-mounted turbines surged with power as she stamped her foot on the accelerator. The round-tipped columns fired intense heat from their exhaust ports as the landspeeder boosted across Perigaea's bare-dirt landscape at high velocity. The semi-spherical glass windshield kept Azla and Deak's sight unimpaired by the gust of wind that pushed against them. But without a roof, they could still feel the cold air rush over them. Through their hair and past their ears, making it difficult to hear. Only when Azla shifted her gaze to the box-shaped left holoprojector did she realize they were being followed. The navigation computer had registered another vehicle in near proximity, represented on the display as a dot, and it was closing in on their position.

"They're coming up behind us!" Azla called, turning her head to face Deak.

Alarmed by her warning, the knight looked back to see what was pursuing them. It was a black V-36A courier, a landspeeder model used by the empire for patrol. It's angular, geometric body was tall in height with a pointed front, flat rear, and a cylindrical light repeating blaster attached to the hood. Three short cuboid turbines were mounted to it's rear wing, propelling it forward as it drew closer. Seated in the vehicle were four death troopers. These men were tall, wearing black plasteel helmets and armour. The gunner in the front passenger seat pulled the repeater's control stick forward, steering the weapon at the landspeeder ahead.

"I'll shield us!" Deak told Azla. "Just keep driving!"

He twisted around to face the soldiers, drew his lightsaber, and ignited it. The repeater unleashed a volley of plasma bolts in rapid succession. Quick to react, Deak deflected them with his blade through a sequence of parries. He managed to redirect some of the shots back at the courier, piercing holes in the hood and damaging the internal components. Azla did her best to perform evasive maneuvers as she drove. To her surprise, it was actually working for the most part. She moved the landspeeder in a zig-zag motion that made it difficult for the troopers to keep up as they were forced to adjust their aim over and over. Nearly all of the plasma bolts that got close were deflected by Deak. The rest only grazed the landspeeder's rear. R5 whirred in distress as they did. Undeterred by the elusiveness of his targets, the gunner continued firing. In the brief moments Azla turned to check on Deak, she could not help but admire his reluctance to deflect shots at the troopers themselves, preferring to neutralize them by hitting their vehicle instead. Even in the face of mortal danger, he still acted by the passive beliefs of the Jedi. This strategy was proving successful as Deak redirected a few plasma bolts into the repeater's barrel, blowing it apart in a shower of sparks. With the courier's built-in weapon destroyed, the three trooper passengers drew their E-11D blaster rifles and opened fire on Deak. He kept blocking as many shots as he could, sending some back at their vehicle. Finally, the courier's front internal components suffered enough damage that the console malfunctioned, causing the driver to lose control of the steering. It span in a circle sporadically, plumes of dark smoke came pouring out of it's gaping bolt holes. Violently tumbling from side to side, the courier now traveled faster than before, enough to not only move alongside the Jedi's landspeeder, but also collide with it. Deak did not need the force to sense the clearly evident and imminent danger it posed. He extinguished his lightsaber and turned to Azla.

"It's gonna hit us!" He alerted.

"Hang on!" she said, tightening her already firm grip on the wheel.

Azla weaved the landspeeder left and right, forward and back, dodging the courier whenever it's random arcs brought it close. With the force as her guide, she managed to keep out of the vehicle's path by predicting where it would appear and when. But then came an instance her precognition failed to account for. Falling back and swinging around, the courier slammed into her vehicle's rear, knocking Deak overboard.

R5 squealed in shock as his master rolled away.

"Deak!" cried Azla, her voice shrill and panicked.

She wanted to stop, to go back for him. But she knew he would not want her to, that Strigis would not want her to. The rest of the troopers would be coming. Nothing could be allowed to slow her down, there could be no delay. It was up to her now. She had to get to the mine and hide, where she could record a warning to Strigis' network of surviving Jedi if it came down to it. So Azla drove on, tears flowing from her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3 - Into the Labyrinth

Strong winds quickly dried the streams running down her cheeks. While traversing the rural terrain, her mind raced with questions concerning the fates of Strigis and Deak.

 _Did Master Jove succeeded in evading the first squad of death troopers? Or did he perish in battle? Did Deak manage to break his fall with the force? Or was he too late to save himself?_

She struggled to maintain composure and focus as the questions nagged at her. For a moment, the dreaded thoughts that plagued her mind ceased, as the Barathrum Mine came into view. Across the outlying dryland, a rocky hill range stood tall in the distance. At the base of the center-most hillside was a long arching crevasse that burrowed into the mine below. A short while later, Azla arrived at the entrance. She parked the landspeeder and carried R5 out of the back seat. The latter was a task that required the aid of the force since Deak was not present to assist her. She and the droid moved with haste into the hillside's gaping maw and made their descent through a sloping narrow tunnel that lead to the underground. Azla used her weapon's luminous blade to light her way through the pitch black, while R5 utilized the bright beam of it's holoprojector. Before they could get any further beneath the surface, their path was blocked by a large rusted durasteel door. This was the main gateway to Perigaea's now defunct heart of industry. For many standard decades, the Barathrum Mine was the town's primary source for jobs. In recent years, business had been on a steady decline, until finally twelve standard months ago when the ground yielded no more deposits of aurodium, the mine was closed down. Azla pointed her lightsaber forward. With both hands on the hilt, she drove the blade into the door. Plasma burned through metal as she moved her weapon in a chronowise motion. After completing a full rotation, a circle-shaped piece of the door fell away, leaving a hole large enough to pass through. She and R5 entered the opening and proceeded to the cavern. At the end of the tunnel, they came upon the chamber interior. The hard uneven floor was littered with rocks. Boulders of varying shape and size lined the stone walls. Clusters of stalagmites large and small hung from the ceiling and protruded from the ground. Several tunnels branched off in different directions. After observing a faded directory sign mounted onto a wall nearby, Azla decided the best place to hide would be the lowest chamber. To get there, she would need to take the south-east tunnel, turn left at the third junction, then continue straight. Once she and the droid had memorized the route, they went on their way heading further below. In passing, Azla noticed how very few pieces of mining equipment remained in the facility. It seemed that anything of value had been removed from the place following its closure. What little she could see consisted of weathered turbohammers, cracked hardhats, and broken safety goggles. The only sounds were the crunching of her footsteps, the buzzing of R5's treads, and the scuttling of beetles. But as she and R5 exited the second junction, a new sound could be heard. Faint at first but gradually growing louder. They turned to face the artificial hum coming from behind. Azla held her lightsaber cautiously, ready to move into a defensive position. They braced themselves as the source of the noise glided out of the shadows. Hovering in front of them was a small probe droid. It's oblate spheroid body was black with an extended antenna on top. Attached underneath were five thin mechanical limbs with pincers on the end. It gazed down at the Jedi and the astromech through a large glowing red photoreceptor with two small black ones arranged diagonally on either side. A warble came from it's speaker. Then the droid flew off back the way it came.

 _They followed us in._ Azla realized, now more on edge than before.

She knew the scout would return to it's organic superior, relaying their location. With the enemy not far behind, they would have to move fast, getting far away before the imperials caught up. The two continued on their path, now rushing towards the third junction in fear of the imminent hostile presence seeking to claim them.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Depths of Despair

As she ran, Azla assessed the situation in her mind.

 _There's at least one, or more force forbid, death troopers in pursuit. Clone soldiers bread to be stronger, faster, and more resilient than the rest of their brothers. They'll be armed. Likely with pistols, rifles, and frag grenades. They've got a probe droid, capable of detecting motion and sound. This won't be easy. We need to get the lowest chamber fast. Hiding won't be enough. Once we're inside, I'll have to barricade the entrance. If we stay quiet, it should buy us time. We'll wait for the signal, and if it doesn't come, we'll send out the warning as planned._

As she and R5 came upon the third junction, they could see an opening up ahead on the left, leading down into the lowest chamber.

"There. Hurry," she told R5 as she pointed to it, carefully keeping her voice at a volume that would not give away their position.

The two bolted towards the descending passageway. After reaching the opening, they crossed through to the chamber. It looked as though it had once been used for storage. Open metal crates of various shapes both large and small lay toppled over and haphazardly stacked on top of each other in piles around the chamber. They were mostly empty, with the exception of a few that carried some broken equipment, pieces of which were also scattered across the floor. Calling on the force, Azla began lifting crates and boulders off the ground by motioning her hands at them one by one. She carried the material over to the opening where she used it to construct a makeshift wall. Time was a luxury she could not afford. The barricade needed to be assembled quickly before the arrival of any trooper or probe droid. Using the force to lift and arrange objects while under severe pressure was a practice that Azla had no experience with. A fact which only added to the stress she felt. The fear of failing her mission proved to be a powerful motivator as it enabled her to complete the wall with time to spare. It was high and wide enough to completely seal off the chamber. Azla gave a sigh of relief once she was done.

"And now we wait," she said, regarding R5 with a nervous look.

Three standard hours later, Azla and R5 were still waiting. Her comlink was silent the entire time. She was starting to fear the worst. If Stigis was dead or captured, then his Jedi contacts needed to be alerted as soon as possible. But her master had instructed her and Deak to wait five standard hours before sending the warning. Four standard hours had elapsed since Azla arrived at the Barathrum Mine. She had to wait just one more hour. By this point, she was getting tired. It was becoming difficult to keep her eyes open. It had been a physically and emotionally exhausting night. She started to drift off. Then a crash sounded throughout the chamber. The wall broke apart, knocked over by something on the other side. When the pieces fell away, Azla saw a black clad figure standing in the now unsealed opening. He stared at her through the red-tinted visor of his helmet's narrow faceplate. He was dressed in overalls covered with plasteel shoulder plates, gauntlets, chest and back plates. His leather gloved hands were balled into fists. He stood motionless, leather boots firmly planted on the ground. Neither she nor the man moved. R5 twisted it's head to face Azla, then the man, then her again, curious as to who would act first. Tension hung heavy in the air.

 _He's Imperial. That's for sure._ Azla commented internally, observing the silver imperial emblem that branded each of his shoulder plates.

Then, she noticed something else about the man. Something that amplified her dread immensely.

 _No. No. By the force, no! He's not a death trooper. He can't be. A death trooper...wouldn't carry a lightsaber!_

The weapon hung from his leather belt, resting against his left hip. The hilt was black and silver with a semi-circular knuckle-guard that arced from the tip to the base. A design that Azla had never seen before.

 _He's a-a hunter! Just like in the rumours. A Jedi hunter!_

After a few seconds of stillness, the man spoke, doing so in a voice made deep and artificial by his helmet's in-built modulator.

"You have waited long enough…" He drew his lightsaber in his right hand, arm outstretched towards Azla. "And so have I."

A glowing red blade extended from the hilt.

 _A Sith?! Working for the empire?!_

"Azla Yandulu!" He bellowed. "By the authority of the emperor, you are sentenced to death on counts of treason and sedition against the empire."

 _Treason? Sedition? Never! Not me, not Strigis, not Deak, not anyone in the Order! None of it is true. We don't deserve death!_

"N-no!" she stammered. "Those are lies! I-I'm innocent! The Jedi are innocent! Y-you're mistaken, Sith!"

"Wrong." He retorted. "You are guilty, the Jedi are guilty, and I am not Sith."

He moved into an attack stance, clasping the hilt in both hands, holding it on his right with the blade angled upward.

"Sentence will now be carried out."


	5. Chapter 5 - The Duel

He paused for a second, and then shouted, "Droid!"

Emerging from darkness, the probe droid from earlier appeared, flying out from behind it's master and up toward the ceiling. Each of it's pincers held a spherical anti-grav luma with transparasteel casing.

"Illuminate!" he commanded. The droid obeyed, wirelessly activating the orbs, causing them to glow brightly and illuminate the chamber.

It moved in a wide circle, releasing the devices from it's grasp at particular points where they hung suspended in mid-air. After a full rotation, the droid's trail formed a shining ring of lights. With the area now appropriately lit, the man wasted no time and began sprinting at Azla. She did not know what this man was or what he was capable of. This left her uncertain regarding exactly how to proceed. Beyond her objective to stay alive, Azla had no plan, not yet. Instinctively, she defaulted to her most basic strategy, defense. Soresu, the most defensive form of lightsaber combat, was her specialty. She faced him side-on, lightsaber gripped in her right hand, angled horizontally and held back at shoulder height. Her left arm was extended forward, palm raised. She held her ground, determined but fearful, maintaining her stance with as much composure as her mind would allow. After dashing forward a few meters, the man closed the distance between himself and Azla by somersaulting high into the air and landing in front of her while swinging his lightsaber vertically downward in a two-hand grip. She countered the strike with a horizontal parry. Uncrossing his blade, he leaped back, twirled his weapon in his right hand, then lunged at her with a two-hand grip as he slashed diagonally upward. The strike was met with another parry. The man continued to twirl, swipe, and thrust his blade, leaping and spinning all the while, using the momentum of his elaborate moves and acrobatics to lend volume to his attacks. Azla observed his style while blocking the ferocious barrage of blows he dealt her. She recognized it as Ataru, the most acrobatic form of lightsaber combat. It was a style that required continuous movement, a practice that got exhausting.

 _That's it._ She thought.

 _If he keeps going at this pace, he'll tire himself out. I just have to hold my ground until that happens._

Soresu suited her strategy well. The form's movements were small, tight, and efficient. It allowed her to save her strength for when she needed it most. The man moved with preternatural speed, his dynamic maneuvers flowing from one to the next as he struck high and low, left and right. His rapid attack sequence, frequent and unrelenting, pushed the limits of Azla's ability to reactively counter. He was a storm, violent and destructive, raging against her with murderous fury. But despite intimidating opposition, she was not deterred, responding to his aggressive offense with a passive defense. She swiftly transitioned between various parries, retaining her balance and remaining centered, keeping her blade close and her target areas covered. She was the eye of the storm, still and tranquil, untouched by the hostile elements that raged around her. The circle of shelter she made through a sequence of parries held back the hail of strikes he rained down upon her. As the battle went on, it occurred to Azla that if she managed to engage a dark side adept in combat and live, she would pass her final trial. Jedi padawans had to successfully complete five trials to ascend to the rank of knight. She had already passed four, the trail of skill, the trial of spirit, the trial of flesh, and the trial of insight. Only one remained, the trial of courage. Facing off against the man and surviving the encounter would undoubtedly serve as a courageous display, worthy of earning knighthood. Then, his attacks began to slow down. He was no longer as fast or agile as when the duel began. The strikes were loosing their momentum and failed to transition seamlessly. After a few more sluggish attempts to break through his opponent's defenses, the man back-flipped away from her, landing in a crouching position. He stood back up, fixing his gaze on Azla, who adopted the soresu opening stance in anticipation of another attack.

"You have demonstrated considerable skill, padawan," He remarked sincerely. "But from now on, I will hold nothing back."

Placing his hands on the sides of his helmet, he lifted it off of his head and held it in front of his chest. His face, now exposed, made Azla sick with dread. The sight struck her terror into her heart, coursing through her body so strongly she could hardly breath. Struggling to hold herself together, she managed to utter,

"D-Deak?"

"No," he replied, in an all to familiar voice. "Not anymore."


	6. Chapter 6 - The Trial Of Courage

Much to her horror, she recognized his features. Wavy dark brown hair, matching thick brows, square jaw. They belonged to the man she knew as Deak. However, what she did not recognize was his bright yellow eyes. They burrowed into her, simmering with contempt. The cosmetic change was as surreal and unexplained as his change of allegiance to the galactic empire and the dark side of the force.

Tossing his helmet aside, he extinguished his lightsaber, leaped backwards and shouted,

"Darken!"

In response, the probe droid deactivated the lumas, immersing the chamber in darkness. The only light left was the radiant blue glow of Azla's blade. She held her position and braced for another attack. Unable to see anything beyond the luminous aura cast by her weapon, she listened intently for sounds of movement. R5 wailed anxiously.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll protect you."

"But can you protect _yourself_?" The man's voice called out from behind her.

She quickly span around to face the direction the words came from.

 _But how?!_ She thought. _He was just in front of me. How could he move without making a sound?!_

The man's new tactics unnerved Azla greatly. The first half of their duel had been more conventional. Initially, he attacked her head on in a way she had been trained to defend against. But now, he was taking a patient approach. Stalking her from the shadows, moving unheard and unseen like a predator, waiting for the right opportunity to strike down his prey. Even worse, he had thrown her off balance by revealing his true identity. As much as she tried to focus solely on the battle, suppressing the emotions that stirred within her as best she could, Azla was distraught over the revelation. Deak, the man whose life she saved, the man who helped further her training, the man who she secretly loved, was a Jedi hunter all along.

"You were too trusting, Azla," he spoke again, this time on her left.

She whirred around towards his voice. With her attention now on him, the man continued,

"Another Jedi _conveniently_ dropped out of the sky, crashed his ship in the same town where you and your master took refuge, and you didn't find that suspicious? Instead you and Jove gullibly believed it was the will of the force, uniting the last of your Order."

His taunt made Azla feel like such a fool. She thought herself so naive, never once considering how Deak's arrival in Perigaea might have been too good to be true. But then wondered if being suspicious would have made a difference anyway. She could think of no reason to doubt what he appeared to be, a sick fugitive Jedi.

"The malevaxia!" She snapped at him, angry and confused. "You had m-malevaxia! That was real!"

"Unfortunately yes," he replied with disdain.

His voice emanated from the direction where he had first started speaking from. Azla turned, following the sound. In doing so, she realized that the man had her going in circles. His movements were as silent as they were fast, and thus could not be detected. This made him unpredictable, and frustrated her to no end. He went on to say,

"It was a necessary part of my cover. Only a mild case though, leaving me enough time to get treatment. Ultimately not fatal, thanks to your efforts."

Azla was in disbelief. He actually infected himself with a deadly virus to give his facade authenticity. It seemed the empire went to great lengths to maintain the false identities of their Jedi hunters, a testament to their conviction. Knowing what she knew now, Azla saw previous events in a new light. If Deak's condition when they first met was genuine, did that mean his assault on the death troopers was also real?

"The t-troopers!" She exclaimed. "You attacked your own p-people?!"

"I never cared much for clones," he confessed. "But no. I attacked their _vehicle_. Killing my subordinates for doing their job would hardly be fair."

It was at this moment Azla realized that the careful blaster bolt deflection Deak had demonstrated earlier that night was not an act of preserving sentient life, but rather one of preserving his minions. She surmised that if all Deak circumstances and actions were intentional, then his fall while en route to the Barathrum mine was no accident.

"You fell off the speeder on purpose!" She declared aggressively.

" _Now_ you're catching on," he responded mockingly, his voice now coming from her right.

She twisted herself accordingly. The routine was getting irksome.

"But your epiphany has come too late," he added. "After my tumble, while you were busy running and hiding, I returned to the town, regrouped with my squad and dealt with the old man. Before cleaving his head from his shoulders, I showed him the truth, the same truth I'm showing you now."

 _I will kill him for all of this._ She vowed silently.

Darting out of the pitch black in a flash, the man advanced towards Azla with his lightsaber ignited. This time it produced two energy blades, one extending from the tip of the hilt, the other from the base. He swung them at her in a flurry of strikes, arcing above and below, aiming for her target areas. He lashed out harder and faster than he had before. His weapon and his body span in conjunction, twisting and turning rapidly. His attacks formed a tornado of turbulence that threatened to pull her in. Through hastily executed parries, she blocked the swift fusillade of heavy strikes that hammered against her. The increased pace of his bladework and the amplified power of his blows, along with the additional blade he wielded, made him more and more difficult for her to keep up with. Despite the odds, she refused to yield. There was too much at stake. She had to endure and survive the onslaught, she had to warn the other Jedi, she had to pass her final trial, and in doing so, become a knight. But she was not sure she possessed the strength to go on. Just when she thought she could no longer maintain a defense, the man somersaulted back into darkness, and the deadly silence resumed. Once more she stood with R5 at her side, but was now out of breath and weak in the knees.

"Deak Starblazer is a mask," he explained from behind the tenebrous veil. "His story is a lie. The empire went to some expense providing the authentic details, crashing the escape pod, infecting me with the virus. To my surprise, convincing you proved easier than expected. You wanted a peer, your master wanted more students, both of you saw what you each hoped for. Impossible to resist, wasn't he? Poor Deak, sick and dying, with only his _loyal astromech_ for company."

Azla felt a sharp jab in her leg followed by an electric shock. The pain shooting through her made it difficult to move, but she managed to look down just enough to glimpse R5 poking her with a taser prod. The weapon was attached to a thin mechanical arm that unfolded from an open panel in the droid's mid-section. Her surprise faded quickly.

 _"Loyal astromech."_ She thought.

 _The trigger phrase no doubt._

Of course R5 was traitor. The droid and it's master were both agents of the empire. Worse yet, the data card containing Strigis' contacts was now in R5's input slot, where Azla had inserted it during the long wait, intending to send a warning soon. But she knew now that the droid would never have allowed that to happen. After a moment, R5 retracted it's prod. Azla fell to her knees, writhing in agony. The hiss of an activated lightsaber sent a shiver down her spine. Moving in the dark, she saw the two red energy blades begin to rotate 360 degrees, slowly at first, then faster. Until suddenly they were so fast that her eyes could not keep track of the individual beams anymore. Instead they blurred together in a circular fan of red light. She stumbled as she got back on her feet, trying to adopt an opening stance. The spinning blades launched out of the man's grasp and flew across the room towards her.

"Illuminate!" The man commanded.

The probe droid reactivated the lumas. Azla was temporarily blinded by the brightness that filled her vision, further adding to her disorientation having already been stunned by the prod's voltage. The blades moved with such velocity that she was too slow to react. The burning wheel sliced through her legs, severing them from the knee down. She toppled forward onto the hard ground, howling in pain, loosing her grip on her lightsaber as she collapsed. It's blue energy blade extinguished and the silver hilt clattered against the floor. The force carried the double-bladed weapon back into it's owner's right hand. The man stepped closer to better observe her face. It was contorted with anguish. He remained still, looking down upon his opponent as she screamed. For a long moment, he said nothing, his yellow eyes cast a remorseless cold stare at her mutilated body as it squirmed. Azla looked back at him through the tears that welled in her eyes. She was overcome with total despair. She had lost the duel, she had lost the data card, and she had lost her master. She would never escape now, never contact the surviving Jedi, never become a knight. Her body and spirit were broken, the suffering was too much to bear. She craved the release of death. But the man was not yet prepared to grant it to her. When her throat was too sore to cry out any longer, the man said irritably,

"I _would_ have cut you down _sooner_ , but I had not regained my full strength until now. Jove was tougher than he looked, stubborn till the end. His execution was exhausting."

It became apparent to Azla, that the first half of the duel was simply a warm up for the man. Having just faced Strigis in battle, he was too worn out to defeat her quickly. At the time, she believed she was draining his energy. But she had been wrong. In reality, the man was ushering her into a false sense of security, allowing her to think she was winning. Despite the magnitude of his assault, he was only demonstrating a fraction of his power. It was a ruse to stall for time while he gathered his strength. Did he ever have any interaction with her that was not part of some deception? Azla very much doubted it. The man held his lightsaber angled vertically in front of him with two hands. Raising his arms up, he aimed the bottom blade at Azla's back.

"W...Why D-Deak?" She barely managed to ask, her voice strained.

The man stopped, considering the question, then answered with,

"Because I will not allow you and your kind's dogmatic zealotry to plague the galaxy any more. And my _name_ is Dante."

He drove the blade into her back, piercing her already broken heart. Azla opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her face froze in permanent anguish, then death's release came at last.


	7. Epilogue

Later outside, Dante emerged from the entrance to the Barathrum Mine. R5 trundled along on his left and the probe droid hovered by on his right. Dawn was close approaching, and with it, two death troopers aboard a V-36A courier, heading for Dante's position to collect him. He regarded the astromech.

"R5, contact Colonel Galvin," he ordered.

The droid obeyed, switching on the tiny cylindrical holoprojector that protruded from the front of it's head. After a moment, the life-size transparent hologram of Colonel Galvin took shape from blue light. The 46-year-old man had close-cropped hair, a round face and hooded eyes. He wore a white tunic with a six square rank plaque and black pants that matched his silver-buckled belt and tall boots.

"Inquisitor Volero. I was not expecting to hear from you just yet," Galvin remarked in surprise.

"This could not wait, Colonel," Dante explained. "I have a data card containing frequencies and access codes used by Jedi to communicate their status. I am sending them to you now."

"Excellent," Galvin replied. "With this we can trace our way to the physical locations of the users."

"Inform the Inquisitorius as soon as you have a lead."

"We will. Until next time, Inquisitor."

The transmission ended and Galvin's image fizzled away. Dante felt satisfied. The mission went perfectly, and it's conclusion came as a relief to him. He had hated every moment of the last standard month. Living with his worst enemies was no easy task, but he was careful to conceal his contempt. Ultimately, it had been worth the wait. Jove and Yandulu were dead, and soon their allies would be next.

 _They will pay._ He thought.

 _Their days of brainwashing and warmongering are over. No matter where they are, not matter how long it takes, they are all going to pay._


End file.
